037: burden

Silent, he stood before the small shrine. The traveler had seen many days on his journey, as his unshaven face and far-off stare revealed a wilderness within his weary soul. Once silken robes now were rough and tattered, as blood-soaked bandages could be seen under the torn fabric. Yet, weakness had not taken him, as he stood in defiance of his condition.

A wizened monk emerged from the shrine to greet him. Without speaking, the traveler took from his back a bundle, wrapped in cloth. The monk, bowing, accepted the offering.

A moment later, the traveler collapsed, dead.